


Purely for convenience

by sholockedwankymerlin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:04:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sholockedwankymerlin/pseuds/sholockedwankymerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Reichenbach. Sherlock has moved in with Molly and it's the small things that bring them closer.  Ends up with Sherlock reading 50 shades of grey! BRINGING BACK SHERLOLLY as much as I love Johnlock. John will as ever be supportive John!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purely for convenience

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy. My first ever fanfic posted on archive of our own!

Molly is a very minimalistic person. There was not need to buy a flat with two bedrooms when she moved to London. If anyone ever stayed over it would be for one night only, for that the couch would suffice. However she did not plan on Sherlock jumping off a building and playing dead whilst staying at her flat. That is why she was dreading bringing Sherlock home with her, she had warned him that there was only one bedroom but he had discarded the information almost immediately, then asking if he would have access to Wifi.

Molly unlocked the old green door to her flat, stepping inside and allowing Sherlock to absorb the surroundings.

Spotless. She doesn't have company often, she cleaned because she knew I would be staying here. Tesco bags popping out of the cupboard door, she restocked the fridge. Bedroom door is shut, presumably enclosing her cat in case I dislike or am allergic to them.

'Molly, let your cat out of your bedroom. That is no way to treat an animal.' Sherlock stated simply. 'Apart from that you have a nice flat that should suffice for now and I promise I will be out of your hair as soon as possible.'

Molly didn't want him to go really but she put it down to her being hopelessly in love with him.

'You can stay as long as you need, it's not bother to me at all, but I don't know how long I can stand the blow up mattress.' She muttered. Since Sherlock had disregarded her point about the lack of bed's she had decided to give up her bed for him. He was the guest after all. Half of Molly hoped that he would decline and offer to sleep on the blow up mattress instead, but of coarse this was Sherlock and that was not going to happen.

After dinner and showers the two were watching repeats of 'The Jeremy Kyle Show' wrapped up in their pyjamas, when Molly and Sherlock both yawned simultaneously, they caught each others eyes and chuckled.

'Time for bed I think.' Molly announced getting up, re-tying her dressing gown and heading to the other side of the living room to the blow up mattress. Sherlock got up to go into the bedroom when he saw were Molly was going to be sleeping and looked confused.

'Molly why do you feel the need to sleep out here? That mattress is placed right near the door. Not only is it a fire hazard but you will catch your death with the draft. Pull the mattress next to the bed in the bedroom, there should be enough space and despite what John told you after the incident with 'The Woman', I will not fall out of bed on top of you.'

I wish you would she thought before mentally slapping herself.

'Oh...okay.' she was about to get up off the mattress to pull it into the bedroom, but Sherlock had already started dragging it with her still on top. As he tried to get it around the corner she flew off the other side into the side of the couch, squealing as she went. She looked up at Sherlock who looked worried that she had hurt herself but the look on his face sent her into a fit of laughter. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief as he joined in her giggling. He was positive that he was overtired, but after all it was quite funny. The pair picked up one end of the mattress each, moving it next to 'Sherlock's bed'.

'Sherlock I am capable of moving furniture you know.' Molly said recovering from her giggling outburst.

'It's no bother, I do it for Mrs. Hudson all the time, John tries to help but he's too short.' Sherlock let out one breathy chuckle but it was followed by a sallow look. Sherlock felt guilty for what he had done to his best friend, even if it was to save his life and Molly could tell, she felt the same way.

'Sherlock you will see John again and I know he will forgive you. You're like the annoying old couples you see that fight all the time and want to kill each other, but in the end you can't love each other more.' She smiled at her comparison but Sherlock wore a look of confusion and offence. 'What I mean is that he will never completely hate you, no matter how much he swears he does.' She said giving him a tap on the back, a hug may have broken the boundaries. Sherlock gave a small smile and climbed into bed. It was a cold night that night, so he used the throw at the end of the bed as an extra layer.

'Goodnight Molly. Thank you for letting me stay.' He mumbled, letting his eyes go heavy.

'Any time Sherlock, sleep tight.'

 

***

 

'Molly stop moving! That blow up mattress is really loud!' Sherlock hissed.

'I'm sorry, I can't sleep, it's freezing.' She replied struggling to reach for her fluffy socks that were underneath the bed Sherlock was sleeping on.

'For God's sakes, get in with me.' He said unfolding the duvet to allow her to climb in.

' What, no! You're my guest and you should have the bed for yourself.' Molly stammered, shocked that she just turned down the opportunity to crawl into bed with Sherlock Holmes.

'Come on! I'm cold too, this way we can preserve heat and we might be able to get some sleep tonight.'

Molly started to climb in hesitantly. 'Purely for convenience?'

'Of coarse.' Sherlock replied, placing the cover over his pathologist.

'Goodnight again Molly.' Sherlock said, but the only reply he got was the sound of a light snore on Mollies part, to which he smiled fondly.

***

Sherlock was no stranger to waking up with someone next to him, he often went to John's room and comforted him after his best friend had particularly bad nightmares and ended up falling asleep at his side, so in that sense Sherlock had slept with someone. But waking up with Molly was different. She didn't run away or give him a look that said 'you're insane' like John did. Typical heterosexual men, brought up to find that wrong even if no physical contact had occurred. Molly smiled at him the morning after the frosty, winter night. She offered him coffee and a bacon butty. She asked how he slept, she made the bed and then ruined the moment.

'I'm so sorry Sherlock, I didn't mean to intrude last night, you could have kicked me out...' she began to Sherlock's annoyance, everything had been perfect until she started. He cut her off by placing a hand on hers.

Pulse elevated, pupils dilated. Keeps looking at the floor out of embarrassment...she knows I'm deducing her! Wow even John never knew when I was or wasn't.

'Sherlock stop reading me like a book.' She said removing his hand from hers, looking away to hide her blush.

'Molly, it's no problem, we both benefited from it didn't we? I mean I'm not sure about you, but I could actually feel my toes once you got in.' Sherlock nudged her playfully. 'Come on, it's your day off isn't it? Let's have a route through your DVD collection.

-3 hours later-

'Molly I don't get it, if he is gay, why is he pretending to fancy the loud girl?' Sherlock, being his sociopathic self was confused by the decisions being made by the teenagers on Glee, although it was funny, Molly started to realise just how much Sherlock didn't understand about feelings.

'Because Sherlock, he doesn't want people to find out he's gay.'

'What's wrong with gay people?'

'Nothing, but during your teenage years image is everything for most people, so he pretends to love Rachel to stop Mercedes asking him out and to cover up the fact that he likes Finn.' Molly stated. Since they began watching the series she had answered multiple questions about love, sexuality and stupid decisions that Sherlock fired at her. Well if any show was going to educate him, it would be Glee.

'So if I loved someone, I would express it by pretending to fancy someone else?'

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the most helpful.

The two had spent the entire day cuddled up with blankets and hot chocolate swapping from genre to genre. During a particularly jumpy horror film, Molly had scooted nearer to Sherlock. She could handle gory ones; she was a pathologist for crying out loud, but with a slight nervous side she couldn't handle loud of scary surprises. By seven o'clock the pair had fallen asleep, Sherlocks head rested on Molly's shoulder with her head buried in his soft curls. As beautiful as the image was, the position became too uncomfortable due to the height difference and he pulled away, cupping Mollie's head with his hand and resting her on his lap. He took the quiet time to reflect on his life right now.

Well, I can't leave here yet, Jim could still have his spider friends hanging around to see that I have gone, it's only been a day. But what will happen? I can't stay here forever, it's not fair on Molly and it's going to be at least three years before I can go back to John. But he could be married with children by then. Wow, 'Uncle Sherlock' sounds insane. What will I do when John goes on without me?

Molly started tossing on the couch, she was mumbling in her sleep but what she was saying was unintelligible, her face was no longer peaceful as the look of distress crossed her sleeping features.

'No Sherlock.' She whispered. By this point tears were streaming down her face. 'Don't jump!' she almost shouted, bolting upright immediately. Sherlock grabbed her shoulders from behind and pulled her back towards him. The woman before him broke down into hysterical sobs as she turned to face him. She threw her arms around the startled mans torso and clung on to him for dear life. Sherlock let her get it out of her system, not quite knowing the protocol for this particular social situation, he decided to smooth her hair out as she calmed down.

Once the tears had subsided, Molly looked up at the detective with hazy eyes.

'You were gone.' She whispered. 'You jumped, you were going to leave me.'

'But I haven't though Molly, I'm right here.' He held her close for a moment before taking advantage of Molly's knowledge of feelings by asking what he really wanted to know.

'Molly.'

'Yes Sherlock?'

'Do you think John will be having that dream? What if he is? I'm not there to comfort him.' Molly gave him a pitying look, but inside she was glad that she had cracked one layer of Sherlocks, that he had finally confided in her. That showed that he trusted her didn't it?

'Sherlock, he is stronger than you give him credit for. He was in the army remember, he has seen so many deaths. Yours will be harder on him though, as you two were...are so close, but he won't be like me. I mean, he is strong, I am weak, he has his head screwed on, I'm an emotional wreck...'

'You smell nicer that John and you are more patient with me. Come on Molly, you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Damn it you broke up with a criminal mastermind! You helped me save the lives of three people! Come on Molly you're so much more.' Molly gave him a small smile. 'See, you're pretty when you smile! I think you are right though, John has been through a lot, hopefully he can deal with it in time.'

Molly couldn't help herself, she launched forward and embraced Sherlock.

'Thank you. It's not often I hear complements like that.'

Hmm, I shall have to complement her more often, how can she not hear that often. She deserves more than the average woman.

Sherlock just smiled and held her until the fell asleep on each other once again.

***

Molly had come home from the shops one evening to discover that Sherlock was in the shower, feeling upset and anxious after having a particularly distressing phone call from John she decided that she would embrace this alone time and blast out a few of her songs. Not that she would admit it, but Molly loved dancing. Well not dance per se, more going wherever the music takes you. It's a great stress reliever and it's fun exercise. She got changed into a pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms and a bright pink T-shirt that said 'Dance like nobodies watching' and pressed play on her IPod dock, letting herself get lost in the music.

During a particularly embarrassing rendition of 'Rio' by Duran duran, she heard the door creak open and screamed, running to turn the music off.

'Molly...' Sherlock looked at her with an expression of shock.

'Oh my god Sherlock! You did not see that okay? It's just that, well, uuhh...'

Sherlock shushed her. 'You are a fan of Duran Duran? I always put you down as a top 40's kind of girl, hmm I guess I can't even know a person fully.' Completely discarding the fact that he had just caught his new flat mate in a terribly embarrassing predicament Sherlock pulled her Ipod out of it's place on the dock and scrolled through her song list until he came to a song titled Molly and Sherlock's song.

'Molly? Why do you have a song on here for us?' he asked slightly worried for the girl's sanity. He expected a fluster or stumbling on Molly's part, but she mirrored his confused look.

'I've never even heard it before, play it and see what it is.' She said anxiously as the detective hit play. But no music came.

Hey hot stuff...and you too Molly, how nice of me to let you hear my voice! A horrific yet familiar Irish voice spoke.

I suppose that you're wondering why I'm not dead...or am I? This might be my ghost talking. ANYWHO! Now that you Sherlock, are living with Molly, I felt the need to let yourself know what you're getting into. First and for most, she is unhealthily obsessed with you, like CLINICALY. Oh and if you try to use that as an advantage then you're wrong. Molly is a prude, can you believe that she didn't sleep with me. Seriously it would be easier to tell Watson you're alive and do him instead. Anyway Molly is also rubbish at cooking, I hope you enjoy prison food or take away!

Don't worry Molly, your knight in shining armour will get flustered during this recording too. You do know my dear that he manipulates you into doing as he asks simply because he knows that you can't resist him, you're like his lapdog only even more sexless, he also steals from the morgue, where else do you think those body parts in his fridge came from?

Sherlock, I am here and I am watching you. I should kill everyone in your life purely because you didn't die, but since everyone thinks you are a fraud I will let you off the hook...you can choose who I kill! Wow, isn't this exiting! Okay so here are your choices.

a) Molly

b) John

...WAIT! there is no c!

You see Sherlock, you can't be allowed to go on, you just can't. You have 24 hours, text me the 'deets' LATER HOLMES BOY!

Once the message had played Molly looked at Sherlock with an expression of horror. There were no words for this moment, the pair were too in shock to really process any words. A solid five minutes passed before either one of them spoke, it was Sherlock who broke the silence.

'Pass me my phone.' Sherlock said, no emotion clear on his face.

'Why? What are you going to do? Sherlock why would he do that?'

'He knows I have gotten close to you, he is everywhere. Did I ever tell you that he hid cameras around 221B before the fall?' he said grabbing his phone. At that moment, Molly's phone buzzed as it received a text message.

From: Jim

He's right you know, I hid one in the book case before the spoil sport found it

She ignored this for now, she was more wary of the fact that Sherlock was texting. 'Sherlock what are you saying?' No answer. 'Sherlock ANSWER ME!' before Molly could protest any further, Sherlock got up and walked out of the flat.

Molly's mind was racing, what if someone saw him? What if Moriarty came for her.

'What are you doing?' She said. 'I know you can here me Jim, tell me what you are playing at and what Sherlock is doing right now!'

Buzz.

From: Jim

Sherlock has been a bad boy, he can't choose. Well if you can't make a decision you may as well take all right? I will tell you though that his text said this...'Take me, leave John and Molly alone.' Aww how sweet, but he wasn't on the list, too bad really : ) Thanks for talking to me Molly, nice to know that even though we have broken up we can still be friends : ) xxxx –JM

Molly grabbed her phone and started texting Sherlock.

To Sherlock x:

Let it be me, I have no life, I live alone with my cat for crying out loud! Go back to John, have a nice life, just remember me okay?

To Moriarty

I'll meet you at the pool at midnight, take me and leave John.

-In a concealed street-

Sherlock received the message from Molly, he read it and could not believe that she would think so little of herself.

To Molly:

Don't say that, you have everything to live for. This is my mistake and I will pay, comfort John for me, but don't tell him I was alive after the fall. Molly, there is something you need to know, I wanted to thank you for these past few days and say that you are a beautiful, strong woman and that I...

Sherlock saw a small red spot appear on his phone, before he could process this, the phone shattered suddenly. Sherlock cursed inwardly at the fact that he could not communicate with Molly whilst Jim and his snipers were watching. A near by telephone box started ringing, Sherlock knew who it was.

Moriarty.

Sherlock dear! How are you?

Take me, leave the others.

But sweetie, I want to prove to you that you have a heart.

It doesn't take a death to do that. It doesn't take you to help me see that either.

What? You're not! Are you? You love that girl! Oh my my Sherlock, I thought you were better than that, better than the ordinary people.

No, of course not, I don't need to find my heart, it doesn't matter to me.

Then why are you willing to give up your life for other people then? If you have no heart just let them die!

There is a difference between no heart and evil.

But we both know that's not true don't we Sherlock. I'll consider your offer, meet me at the pool. Midnight.

Jim pulled out his mobile.

To Molly Moo-Moo :

Be there or be square :)

***

Molly knew what she had let herself in for. She had thought it through more thoroughly after she offered her own life for Sherlock and Johns. John was upset at the moment and yes he was grieving and not in the mood for socialising but he would recover. He would recover and settle down, get married and have a bunch of baby John's and pass down the stories of Sherlock's and his' adventures. Sherlock, well he was Sherlock, one of the greatest minds the universe had ever seen. Who was she to live if he couldn't?

Molly found herself writing a note to the detective, after all, if you're going to die then you might as well declare everything.

Sherlock,

I don't know if you're looking for me, but if you are please don't waste your time. I can't let you or John die. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. You two have so much to live for and I have nothing. Well I do have one thing, but he's the reason I am doing this. Sherlock I know that you don't understand this properly and lord knows you will never reciprocate, but I love you. Well, at first, before we started living together, you could argue that it was a bit of an infatuation, but ever since that night you held me after I had the nightmare, everything you do has just made me fall even more...apart from when you offered your life, that was just stupid.

Anyway if you have read this, just know that I didn't die for no reason, I want you to go back to John and tell him you're alive no matter how hard that may be.

Love Molly x

Ps. Find Toby a good home.

Molly kissed the piece of paper and placed the note on his pillow on her bed so that he could find it. She glanced at the clock.

23:30

It took twenty minutes by foot to get there so she grabbed her coat, made sure her cat had a full bowl of food and water and walked out the door. She would check in on John on the way there, and try to wish him goodbye without giving away that she will die twenty minutes later.

/AT THE BOTTOM OF BAKER STREET/

Lestrade was walking John back up to his flat. The ex-army doctor had been found by the police man trying to drown his sorrows, telling the barman that Sherlock was real, as was Moriarty. A slightly tipsy John saw Molly standing at the door of 221B and frowned. Why was she there?

'Molly, I don't think he is up to visitors right now.' Lestrade said with a sigh.

'No, it's important. Leave him here and I will see him in safely.' She said grabbing the key from John's coat pocket and opening the door. She allowed John to lean on her as they stumbled up the stairs.

'Whatssupp Molly?' John slurred as he slumped into Sherlocks chair. Molly had found him countless times curled up in a ball on the detectives old seat.

'Just coming to check up on you.' She said trying to smile.

'Well you came at the best time.' John joked but then his face turned serious. 'Molly, I know you mean well, but there is something wrong, please just tell me.'

'There is nothing wrong.' She lied, looking for a quick exit. 'Goodnight John, I hope you're sober enough to get your pyjamas on without killing yourself.' She smiled, bending down to give him a hug.

Buzz

From Jim Moriarty:

You're late, don't make me come looking x

Molly read the message and let a lone tear toll down her cheek, she looked up at John who stared at her with concern. Then she remembered what she was doing this for. Even after grieving over his best friend and after goodness knows how much alcohol, John was still looking out for other people. She needed to leave. Now.

'Goodbye John.' She said turning around quickly, without meeting his gaze. She started making her way to the pool.

Little did she know that someone was following her...

Being a military man, John spent a lot of time with people. He could tell when the people who worked close to him were distressed and he could tell when Sherlock was distressed, even though the detective was like a closed book. If he could deduce Sherlock's feelings then Molly Hooper was going to be a doddle. He knew she was anxious and nervous about something, so in his drunken, hazy state, he thought it would be good idea to follow her. Not that he had a stalker alter ego.

He watched her walk with her head bowed to the ground, she was walking quickly, but with small strides. Would Sherlock say that it indicated anxiety?

Anyway, she turned down onto a culdi-sac, that only had one thing at the bottom of that road. The pool where Moriarty had tried to blow him up.

'MOLLY!' he shouted, she was about to walk in the door as he turned the corner onto the road. She turned to look at him, suddenly slapping herself for leading him here.

'Go home John.' She said as she walked through the double doors. John ran to the building, pushing the doors aside. He weaved his way through the changing rooms to get to the pool itself.

He saw three silhouettes before him. Two tied up. One wearing a wicked grin.

Still not able to see the figures properly in the dark, he spoke out to the one he knew was there.

'Molly, what's going on?' his voice trembled, he waited for a reply but all he got was a muffled screech. She had been gagged.

'Hello John!' well, he would recognise that sleazy Irish accent anywhere. 'One of your friends here has been a little bit naughty.'

'What? Molly wouldn't hurt a fly! What could she have possibly have done?' John began.

'Not her DOOFAS! Geez, I forgot you were ordinary.' He sighed.

'Hello John.' A deep voice came from Molly's side. The taller figure with the curly hair.

***

'Is this some sort of sick joke?' John asked Moriarty. 'You think I'm going to be distracted by a fake Sherlock? Let Molly go. Now.' John said trying to disguise the quiver in his voice.

'Lights.' The Irish man shouted, a moment later the pool lit up, as did Molly with Sherlock's scarf wrapped around her mouth, as did Moriarty wearing a wicked grin. As did Sherlock.

'What the...' John forgot how to form words.

'What's up Johnny boy? Sherlock got your tongue? Wouldn't be the first time I suspect.' Moriarty chortled, grinning. Molly made a noise of protest and began to struggle to get out of the bounds that tied her arms and legs together. 'You know, now that I think about it, you may have to share his tongue with this one over here. I've been spying. You know I love to people watch.' Moriarty crouched at Molly's side and began twirling her hair. Not out of affection, but out of control.

Sherlock is alive, that is him. Why didn't he tell me? Why has he been snogging Molly Hooper? Why did he choose her over me?

'Sherlock that is you right?' out of all these questions, John stupidly asked this one. He was given 'the look' from Sherlock and although he never thought it would happen, he was actually thankful to 'the look' for proving that t was indeed Sherlock stood before him.

'John of course it is me. I need to explain, I know and I am so sorry for what I put you through.' Sherlock kept his eyes on Johns.

'Well Johnny, our little detective has been a little bit naughty you see.' Moriarty went on to explain how Sherlock only pretended to die and how he now had to pay for what he had done. 'I promised to burn the heart out of him and that is what I will do. Okay, so Sherlock offered himself in place your life as well as hers.' He said pointing at Molly. 'But you see Molly here offered her life in place of your life and Sherlock's. Neither of them can make a decision, so here is what is going to happen. You are going to get to choose who I kill! Aren't you a lucky boy John!'

'Choose me.' Sherlock said immediately. 'You've been dealing with my death already John.'

Molly made a noise of protest, struggling harder now. Jim walked over and removed the scarf from around her mouth, allowing her to speak.

'No John, you can't give consent to kill the greatest mind on the planet. Think of the criminals that will get away.' She tried persuading.

John was a moral man, he was a doctor for crying out loud, he was meant to be saving lives. He looked between the two and hit himself when he realised that he would choose Sherlock in a heartbeat. Little did he know that somewhere in Sherlock's mind a light bulb came on.

'Do as she says John, save me.' Sherlock said. 'Save me and let him burn Molly, it is the right thing to do, after all I have a superior mind, it would be for the best.' John looked at the man like he was crazy. This wasn't Sherlock. Sherlock was cold, but not this heartless.

Sherlock gave John 'the look'. Well John never liked that look, but in this situation 'the look' meant 'I have a plan and you had better go with it.' John looked at Molly who looked like she was going to cry, either because she was about to die or because Sherlock just betrayed her and dismissed her with such a bitterness that she couldn't comprehend.

'I...I choose Sherlock.' John said without really understanding what the detective had in mind. Jim turned to undo Sherlock's bounds and John tried to shoot Molly a 'don't panic, we've got this' look, which he was pretty sure cam out as a 'lol I picked Sherlock over you' look judging by the fact that she started silently sobbing. Sherlock walked over to stand by John as Moriarty wrapped Sherlock's scarf around Molly's neck and pulled out a small metal box.

'Do you like it?' Moriarty asked smiling at the contraption. 'It's my fire starter, I set a timer and when it reaches zero, it's going to shoot a fire ball straight at little Molly here. You see this little thing here?' he asked pointing at a small break in the metal. 'This is a motion sensor, whoever it is targeted at, it will shoot wherever they are, so even f she manages to shuffle around with her arms and legs bound together with complex locks and strength steal, which you have no hope in hell of removing, then it will move with her.' By this point Molly looked absolutely petrified. 'Well I know you know I don't like getting my hands dirty, so I'll leave you boys to enjoy the show!' he said strolling out of the pool.

Sherlock looked at the timer. They had thirty seconds.

'Moron. Who burns someone by a swimming pool?' he said, then running into action. 'Quick John, help me lift Molly.' John and Sherlock rushed to Molly's side and grabbed and arm and a leg each. 'Hold your breath and jump on three, keep Molly up, she can't swim.' Sherlock said as the three made their way to the edge of thee pool. On three the jumped and began making their way to the side furthest away from the fire. 'In five seconds Molly, take the biggest breath you can and me and John will pull you under the water, this way the fire will have been out before it can reach you.'

'Sherlock I'm scared.' She whispered.

'Don't be.' He said, holding her hand more firmly. 'Okay under in 3,2,1.'

John and Sherlock pulled Molly below the waters surface to stop her burning. When they came back up, the coast seemed clear and the screen on the weapon was blank. Molly started coughing suddenly and Sherlock sprung into action.

'Molly are you okay? Are you having a panic attack? Did John hold you under too long?'

'Hey I know I just found out you're alive but I won't hesitate to strangle you.' The doctor interjected.

'I'm fine Sherlock honestly, just a little shaken up.' She said smiling at him.

'Look Molly, I am so sorry , I would have let you go but I don't think you and John would have been able to lift me up and it would have been to late by the time I had explained the plan and...' Molly cut the detective off by allowing her lips crash down on to his. Sherlock was shocked for a moment at the gesture. Why was she kissing him after a near death experience? Feelings, he would never understand but will be grateful for. He kissed her back, suddenly realising that it was out of relief. Relief that she was alive, a relief that everyone was safe. Molly pulled away blushing slightly as John coughed so that they would remember his presence there.

'Well, you two can err, talk when we get home.' John said awkwardly, but inwardly pleased that Sherlock just had a romantic encounter.

'Wait, where is home?' Sherlock asked looking at John, then at Molly. 'Where am I going to live?'

***

'Well Sherlock, to be honest I don't think Molly should be alone, nor you, so for the time being you can move into Baker Street with me for the time being and we will go from there.' John suggested to the relief of Molly. She didn't want Sherlock to swan back in with John, it would ruin everything. Molly had not moved since the men had pulled her out of the water, she was in shock and felt a little overwhelmed by everything.

'Molly are you feeling okay?' John asked, noticing that the woman was looking extremely pale.

'No I'm fine.' She insisted. 'Just a little light headed that's all.' She went to get up from her current position on the poolside to make her way towards the bench a little further back. Sherlock helped her to her feet but after the first step, the dizziness became too much for her and she slumped into the detectives arms.

'John, what's happening?' Sherlock panicked.

'Probably a mixture of shock and cold Sherlock, she will be fine after a good rest.' John said opening the door to allow Sherlock to carry Molly to a cab.

'When we get back, you have to fix her, you're the doctor.'

-3 hours later-

Molly's awoke with a start, after dreaming that she was drowning. She had subconsciously been holding her breath which caused her to wake up in a panic.

'Sherlock? John? Where am I? Where's Moriarty?' she said in a raised, shaky voice after the nights events had haunted her. Sherlock came rushing to her side,, crouching down to her level, as she had been lying on his bed beneath multiple blankets with a hot water bottle at her feet.

'I'm here, John's in the kitchen making us all some tea. You are in the 221B and safe, Moriarty is gone, there is no need for you to work yourself up. Do you remember everything that happened?' he asked trying to reassure her as quickly and as calmly as possible.

'I know it happened, it just feels a bit like it happened to someone else.' Molly said trying to remember the events from a few hours ago. John brought three mugs of tea into the room. Molly sat up under the blankets to drink it as Sherlock and John sat on the other end of the bed.

'Do you need anything Molly? Paracetemol ? More blankets?' Sherlock asked putting his cup down and pulling the blankets up so that that they covered the whole of Molly's body.

'No I'm fine Sherlock stop fussing. Are you two okay though?' she enquired suddenly realising, as she lifted her cup to her lips, that she had blanket arms. She let out a giggle before either man could reply.

'What's so funny?' John enquired, but she only laughed harder. 'Molly do you have a concussion?' he asked in a half joking, half serious tone. Molly came down from her fit of giggles to reply to him.

'You two...' she said looking at them both ' I want to know which one of you bought this Snuggy.' She said motioning to the blanket with arms.

The two men both had the same horrified expression on their faces.

'Sherlock!'

'John!' they both said at the same time

'Excuse me John, I think you will find that the one she is referring to is yours.' Sherlock stated.

'No, that one is your one!' John shot back, neither of them realising what they had just admitted until Molly started laughing even harder until tears appeared in her eyes.

'You mean to tell me that both of you own Sunuggies?' she laughed as the men looked annoyed with themselves for letting that secret slip. 'I can picture you two on a Sunday morning in your PJ's and watching Jeremy Kyle wrapped in your Snuggies.' She was still laughing as John and Sherlock gave each other an awkward look, they both know that that situation had occurred on more than one occasion.

'Okay Molly, boys can have special arm blankets too, it's not insane.' John said patronizingly, slightly bitter that Molly realised that he owned one. But Sherlock just smiled.

'Molly, if you are not too tired then I propose that you and I watch a film in our snuggies.' He said over dramatically making her and John laugh.

'If you insist fair maiden.' She joked back earning a nudge from Sherlock.

John just smiled at the scene.

They grow up so fast.

***

After Molly had recovered completely from the ordeal at the swimming pool, John nor Sherlock had the heart to send her back to her own flat. During her week at 221B Baker street, the three of them had become like the three musketeers. Molly helped John with the shopping and the cooking and she assisted Mrs. Hudson with the cleaning, she even helped Sherlock with some of his cases if John was working late at the surgery.

Mrs. Hudson adored Molly, she had always wanted a daughter and Molly was a perfect substitute. She was polite, kind, handy around the house and extremely bright, she was a beautiful, independent woman and the landlady constantly reminded Sherlock and John that she is to be treated as such.

One Tuesday, Molly was working late in the morgue and John had said that he would go and pick some more clothes up for her from her flat. Before he could even reach her flat, one of Molly's neighbours emerged from his flat. The man was in his fifties, wearing a vest and boxer shorts. He looked sleazy and John could smell the alcohol on him. His eyes suggested the man had been taking cocaine within the last few hours also.

'Whatchou doooooing buddy?' the man slurred. 'This ain't your flat.' John wasn't quite sure he should dignify the man with a response.

'I'm a friend of Molly's, I'm here to pick up some stuff for her.' He said eventually, not seeing the reason why he felt compelled to respond to this idiot.

'Ah, Molly. How is my baby girl? I haven't seen her in ages, been in Ibiza for 2 months, with the ladies. I bet she knows how to have a good time if you get what I mean.' The greasy man said with a smirk playing on his face. John coughed awkwardly.

'Listen, I don't know what you're talking about to be honest and ...'

'Molly is the prude right? She never visits me and she runs away when I try to ask her in. You ever tried asking the doll out? She is so uptight. Did I tell you she tried to hit me once?' John was shocked at what he was hearing but then his caring, protective side kicked in.

'What did you do to make her punch you?' he asked, anger growing.

'She didn't succeed in punching, I stopped her my grabbing her hand. Anyway I only brushed against her ass. God she is such a prude.'

That did it. John walked up to the nameless grease bag and punched him square in the nose as hard as he could.

'That's from Molly.' John then used all the anger built up inside and conducted it with one sharp knee to the mans crotch. The man cried out and fell to his knees. 'And that is from me.' He spat as he entered Molly's flat.

As John walked in to Molly's bedroom he noticed a note on the bed. He went and looked over the piece of paper. It was the note Molly wrote to Sherlock when she thought she was going to die. John smiled at the piece of paper and decided to take it back to give to Sherlock before Molly returned. He wasn't sure how his roommate would react, but it would be more disloyal to keep it from him. He picked up the bag and note and headed out, hoping that the harasser had crawled back into his sleaze hole.

When John returned to Baker street, he found that both Sherlock was on a case. So he went to see if Mrs. Hudson would like a cup of tea. As they entered a steady conversation, John brought up Molly's neighbour and the incident that had happened. The landlady was shocked at what the man had said, but then congratulated John on his actions.

'Do you think that Molly would like to move in to 221C?' she asked. John's eyebrows shot up. Why had they not thought of that before now? Mrs. Hudson had a low rent price because the room was a little grim, but Molly could brighten it up in no time, Sherlock won't keep her awake with the violin because it hadn't bothered her whilst she was living with him and they could both keep an eye on her since Moriarty's appearance, not to mention she would be away from the horrible pervert across the hall and the rest of the people, her flat was located in the roughest part of London.

'Mrs. Hudson you are a genius, I'll ask her as soon as she gets back...scratch that I'll talk to Sherlock first.'

Later that evening John told Sherlock of Mrs. Hudson's idea and Sherlock was enthusiastic to say the least. He started planning to liven the apartment up. Half an hour into enjoying his housemates happiness, John realised that he had forgotten to give Sherlock the note that he found.

The detective snatched it out of John's hands and read it over, no expression showing on his face. Once he had read it he placed the note on the table beside him and looked at John.

'Molly can't stay here.' He said with his serious voice.

'What? Why? Sherlock this is such a great idea!' John protested.

'No, I'm encouraging Moriarty, I'm putting her in danger.'

'Rubbish!' John exclaimed. 'You're just too scared to admit that you return her feelings.'

'John, I'm married to my work and I can't concentrate on two...'

'Sherlock.' John tried to interrupt.

'...things at once. Moriarty might take her again...'

'SHERLOCK!' John shouted.

'...She doesn't need me...'

'IF SHE GOES BACK SHE WILL BE HARASSED!' John shouted over the rambling detective. That shut him up. Sherlock looked confused and slightly angry.

'What?'

John explained about the man across the hall and how Sherlock wouldn't have seen him because he was on holiday. By the time John had finished the story, his roommate was almost shaking in rage, but contrary to his facial expression, the detective calmly said 'How hard did you kick him?'

'He won't be in the mood for 'the ladies' for a good few months.' John confirmed, smirking a little, proud of his handy work.

'We can talk to Molly when she returns home.' Sherlock said taking a sip of his tea.

'I think I'll leave you to do that Sherlock and remember to ...'

'be nice, I know John.' Sherlock finished. John smiled and left Sherlock to his thoughts.

***

Molly graciously accepted Mrs. Hudsons offer of 221C, Sherlock and John offered to help her move her belongings from her flat and transfer them to her new home. On the day of the move, John firstly had to persuade Sherlock that moving heavy boxes does not require a suit, and to get him to change into some jeans and a T shirt. Secondly, he had to make Sherlock realise he was in love with Molly. Today wasn't going to be difficult at all.

After a tedious argument, Sherlock settled for wearing his 'good jeans' and a fitted, plain tee. John really was trying to think from Molly's point of view and whether she could fall in love with someone who looks like this, he decided that girls wouldn't like someone who wears a shirt that covered in blood and chemicals, so only the white was left. John sighed as Sherlock complained about his appearance and the two headed to Molly's.

Upon arrival, the detectives senses were going crazy.

Alcoholic, drunk, neglecting parents, drugs, prostitutes.

Sherlock turned to the door opposite Molly's.

'That's his apartment isn't it John.' Not a question, but a statement. John nodded in confirmation, worried that his friend was going to tear the door down, but Sherlock kept his calm and turned back to knock on Molly's door. Molly had spent the night before sorting some of her stuff into boxes, and it was surprising how much stud could fit into the tiny apartment. When the door opened, Sherlock noticed the number of boxes piled high on the once clean living room, John's eyes however, trailed past the mass of boxes and straight towards a woman packing up some DVD's into a box.

'John, Sherlock, this is my friend from uni, Mary Morstan, Mary, this is the great Sherlock Holmes and his flatmate slash side kick John.' Molly introduced them. Sherlock shook her hand, as did John.

'Nice to meet you both, Mr. Holmes I am a fan of your work and Dr. Watson, you're writing is beyond compare, I am simply attached to your blog.' She said with a smile.

'Please call me John and thank you very much, that means a lot.' The blogger said with a blush.

'Well, anyone want to help me with Molly's stash of books? I swear this woman needs to go on Hoarders.' Mary asked. John immediately volunteered, leaving a smug Sherlock and Molly sharing a knowing look. John never was any good at hiding his feelings.

'Do you want to come and help me pack the rest of my clothes up?' Molly asked. Sherlock responded with a nod and the two dodged the boxes in order to get to Molly's bedroom, where clothes were stacked in four piles of her bed.

'Okay, work and smart clothes go in this box.' She said looking at the boxes surrounding her and picking up the correctly labelled one. 'Then casual and pyjamas go in this box, just plonk them in, we can sort them out in Baker Street.' she said throwing one at Sherlock. The detective huffed slightly as Molly went to put the kettle on. He started re-folding her pyjamas his way and placing them into the box. As he got nearer the bottom of the pile, he started to find skimpier and skimpier 'pyjamas'. He never thought Molly would wear anything like the flimsy, lacy garments he found. He blushed slightly and threw the rest in.

Molly owns non-cat related clothes? Sherlock's inner child said. But then man Sherlock butted in with that's so hot.

The detective shook off his thoughts and proceeded in stacking the piles of clothes on into the boxes as Molly brought him a cup of coffee.

'Err, Sherlock?' she asked placing the cup of coffee on the window ledge.

'Yes Molly.'

'John just told me he gave my note to you.' She said looking down and blushing, Sherlock mirroring her actions for a moment, before clearing his throat in an awkward fashion.

'He did, I must say, I found it very sweet.' Sherlock said awkwardly.

'Ok.' Molly mumbled, embarrassed. She turned to walk away but Sherlock's voice stopped her.

'I do understand.' Molly turned to face him. 'I understand love, and not just the chemistry of it. Molly you are so wonderful to me, so patient and understanding, you are amazing. The sad thing is that I never actually realised it until you were in danger. When you entered the pool that night, I made a promise to myself to get you out, even if I didn't.' Sherlock was mumbling shyly as Molly stood opposite him, mouth agape.

'You mean...you like me?' Molly asked. Sherlock laughed.

'For someone with a PhD, you sure have a way with words, but yes Molly, I do 'like' you. Therefore I am hereby asking you if you would like to have coffee.' Sherlock smiled his winning smile, quoting Molly from over a year ago.

'Milk, no sugar.' She teased nudging him. 'Yes, I would love to.' She said with a smile.

The moment was interrupted with the sound of sniggering in the living room.

'Oh no.' Molly's face dropped and she ran out of the living room to where Mary and John were packing up her books. When she appeared, Mary burst into fits of hysterical laughter, as John reddened and chuckled under his breath.

'You are so caught!.' Mary howled.

'Stop it! Put it down!' Molly cried as her face turned beetroot red.

'What if I don't? Will you set Mr. Grey on me?' she chortled. Sherlock strolled into the room, a look of confusion upon his face.

'What's going on?' he enquired.

'Molly has been reading 50 shades of grey.' John whispered, even though everyone can hear, causing everyone to chuckle, even if Molly chuckled out of awkwardness.

'What's that? Why is it funny?' Sherlock asked looking confused.

'NOTHING!' Molly almost shouted. 'Sherlock, can you and John take these down to the car please?' she asked pointing at a pile of boxes. The two men grabbed two boxed each and began making their way down the stairs.

'So...what did Molly have to say?' John asked hesitantly.

'Well, she told me you told her about the note, then I invited her out for coffee, like in a bistro, not around bodies.' John smiled, his friend was slowly discovering feelings. 'What about you?' Sherlock asked.

'Me?'

'Yes, you and Mary, you are obviously physically attracted to her, what is she like? Will I remember this one?' Sherlock asked. John sighed at his room mates frankness but decided to answer truthfully.

'If I had to choose between saving you or a date with Mary, I would choose her every time. So if you screw this one up for me, you will find yourself committing fake suicide with Mycroft on the phone, not me.'

'Please John, you are mistaken, I would rather die talking to nobody instead of Mycroft. Well I also know that's not true because you LOVE me!' Sherlock said in a sing song voice. John was slightly worried that all these feelings had driven him insane, but he liked to think that he was high on happiness, which made him smile once again.

'Sherlock you do know that Molly isn't an experiment right?' John enquired quickly.

'Of course I know that!' Sherlock turned suddenly, looking offended at the accusation. John nodded at his response. 'John, what is that book you were laughing about?' Sherlock asked innocently causing John to smirk.

'Oh, it's a great read! You should get it.' John enthused whilst trying to suppress his laughter.

'I might, but don't expect me to enjoy it, the title is all wrong, there are in fact and infinite number of grey shades.' The detective stated.

John just smiled once more. Mission complete.

***

Molly had settled into her new home easily, the serenity of the apartment was pure bliss in her opinion, even if there was a violin playing above her sometimes. Her bedroom was directly beneath Sherlock and John's kitchen, so she often heard John's screams to Sherlock about keeping dead body parts near food, which provided some entertainment.

It had been a week since Molly had moved in, and today was her coffee date with Sherlock. Sherlock waited outside Molly's door at 8am sharp, as per usual and he walked to Barts with her. When they arrived they both went their separate ways. Their plan was to head to Starbucks during Molly's lunch hour, which suited Molly fine, it beat Sherlock making stomach turning comments about the cafeteria's food.

When lunch time came around, Molly met Sherlock there, as the detective had left Barts mid-morning in order to attend a meeting with Lestrade. The pair got into the queue and as they got to the counter Sherlock scanned his eyes over Molly, deducing her.

'Hmm, I think a skinny latte and an Americano for me please.' Sherlock grinned at Molly, who's face just said how?

'Name please?' said the barista, with a bored expression on her face.

Uniform is casual, name pin not attached properly, is lightly to get a prick. New girl.

'Mycroft Holmes.' The girls face suddenly smiled as she straightened her back.

'Yes sir, no charge sir.' She said, still wearing that false smile. Sherlock smiled back charmingly as if he was used to this. Molly gave him a disapproving look as she dropped some money into the tips jar. She doesn't like to take money off of people, but she was however impressed with how much Sherlock got away with. They received their drinks and Sherlock guided Molly over to a table directly next to the window, where the sun shone directly into their eyes.

'Sherlock, why don't we sit over in the shade? There are plenty of tables.' Molly said, gesturing to the almost empty coffee shop.

'If we sit here, Mycroft won't be able to spy on us. There is a CCTV camera to your left, my right, as long as we are sitting here, the light will give too much shine off the window and he won't be able to see.' Sherlock stated as if it was obvious.

'Sherlock, I think your brother has better things to do than...' Molly started but Sherlock interrupted her by nodding over to the camera, which was spinning around as it made itself known. '...oh, I guess you're right.' The two sat for a moment in an awkward silence, before Sherlock spoke up.

'I've never really been on a date before, what do you do?' he asked tentatively, as if scared of seeming stupid.

'Err, well usually you just get to know each other, work, family, friends, but you already know everything about me, and I of you so...' Molly answered after giving serious thought as to what she had done or talked about on previous dates.

'I don't know everything about you.' Sherlock interjected. 'I don't know the trivial things, nor do you of me.'

'So, shall we play twenty questions?' Molly suggested hesitantly, it was hard to tell what Sherlock's reactions to things would be like.

'Sure, me first. Molly, what is your favourite colour.' Sherlock asked, trying to think of the easiest, least personal question he could.

'Dark purple.' Molly answered, Sherlock's mind flew back to the lacy nightwear he found, one was that very colour. 'Okay Sherlock, what is your favourite animal?' Molly continued, snapping Sherlock out of his thoughts.

'Humans.' Molly rolled her eyes but nodded with acceptance. 'Favourite book?'

'Frankenstein.' She replied, surprising Sherlock.

'Really?' Sherlock asked, amazed that it wasn't a soppy romance novel or modern drivel. 'May I ask why?'

'The emotional aspects of the creature and the storyline is gripping. It's a book in which you feel attached to the characters, feeling what they feel. It's just always been one of my favourites.' She answered.

Fifty five minutes later, Molly had found out that Sherlock was a Capricorn, he didn't believe in luck, he had never had a pet, he enjoyed the theatre and he used to box in his spare time.

Sherlock had learnt that Molly's favourite film of all time was Peter Pan, she used to have a dog named Percy as a child, she was allergic to peanuts and shellfish and she owned 142 books.

'Well, I had better be getting back to work. Thank you for a lovely time Sherlock.' she said with a smile.

'You're very welcome; we will have to go out on a real date next time. I would walk you back but I am heading to the library.' He responded. He leaned in towards Molly to give her an awkward hug, he did not know what the protocol was after a lunch date, but the hug seemed to satisfy her, so he took it as a good sign. Then they headed their separate ways.

Hours later

Sherlock was a fast reader, he had read so many books during his lifetime that the skill had developed over the years. Therefore within an hour of being in possession of the book, Sherlock was half way through it.

John watched in amusement as Sherlock's facial expressions changed from slightly worried, to shocked, to just confused.

'John, what the hell am I reading?' the detective spat. 'Oh, no, don't do..eww! Why would Molly want to read this?' he asked, frustrated that the book existed.

'Women find it...err...arousing I guess.' John said awkwardly, he had never dreamt that this conversation would ever come up with Sherlock Holmes.

'Well, why am I reading it?' Sherlock demanded.

'Did your date with Molly go well?'

'Yes.'

'Then it is research my dear friend.' John replied, once again wearing a small grin. This reply took Sherlock a moment to figure out.

'Research? Research for...oh!' the penny dropped. 'JOHN!' he shouted, throwing a cushion in his flatmates direction. 'Seriously, though do women expect this sort of thing in regards to sex?'

'No Sherlock, it's just a fantasy, just be yourself...I can't believe I'm talking to you about sex.' John mused.

'Sex doesn't alarm me.' Sherlock repeated. 'However you talking about me in engaging in sexual activities makes you uncomfortable.'

'Way to make us not sound gay.' John sighed sarcastically. For such a genius, Sherlock sure can be an idiot.

***

'Jaaaaawn.' John sighed as he turned to Sherlock.

'Yes?'

'Where do I take Molly for a real date?' Sherlock asked. After his brain came up with nothing and google wasn't much help, he resorted in asking his flatmate who had inevitably been on plenty of dates before.

'Cinema?' John suggested.

'Dull.'

'Restaurant? Maybe the Chinese with the amazing bottom third of a door handle.'

'Boring.'

'Ice skating?' John offered but Sherlock gave him a look of disgust. 'Oh, how about the theatre? Frankenstein is playing tonight, I'm sure Mycroft can get you tickets.' John enthused as Sherlock smiled at the suggestion.

'John you are brilliant! Her favourite book is Frankenstein and I love the theatre, it's perfect!' he praised whilst texting Mycroft.

FRANKENSTEIN, NATIONAL THEATER, TONIGHT FOR 2? –SH

FRONT ROW SEATS AVAILABLE, WILL HAVE ANTHEA DROP THEM ROUND LATER.-MH

'Settled.' He said getting up out of his armchair and heading downstairs to Molly's apartment.

He knocked on the door and a cat pyjama covered Molly opened the door, still sporting the bed head look. Sherlock smirked as he absorbed her appearance.

'Are you free tonight Molly?' Sherlock asked immediately.

'Nope, I have a date with Desperate Housewives and my cat, as per usual.' She joked. 'Yes I am why?'

'I managed to procure us front row tickets to tonight's revival of Frankenstein at the National theatre.' He stated proudly as her face lit up.

'How did you...what? They are sold out!' she exclaimed, not really expecting an explanation as to how, but she had a feeling that Mycroft was involved. 'Thank you so much!'

'We haven't even been yet Molly, thank me later.' Sherlock said, still smug.

8 hours later...

'Sherlock please calm down, just be yourself!' John scolded when Sherlock began shooting the wall in frustration.

'Myself is not likable John, Molly is likeable, with her kindness and patience and good looks, what do I have?' Sherlock spat. John frowned, knowing that however he tried to boost his flatmates self esteem...it was not going to sound heterosexual.

'You have plenty that girls would like, you're mysterious, clever, cheekbones and let's face it, your not exactly ugly.' John offered.

'Don't say anything if it makes you uncomfortable John, geez, you're stumbling like a toddler.'

'Just, go and pick Molly up, she will love you.' John commanded. Sherlock got up with a huff and headed down the stairs for the second time today and knocked on the door. Only this time, a very different Molly stood before him. This wasn't cute, cat Molly. This was fresh off the run way, stunning and...well sexy Molly. She wore a velvet, deep purple coloured dress, which hugged her body all the way down to her knees. The dress was short sleeved and backless, with black lace along the neckline and it left Sherlock's mouth agape. Her hair was pinned up in an elegant 40's fashion, leaving her neck completely exposed.

'Hi.' Molly whispered, noticing the way Sherlock's eyes trailed on her.

'Good evening, you look lovely.' Sherlock complemented, still in awe.

'As do you.'

There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Sherlock, in an attempt to be the perfect gentleman, grabbed hold of Molly's hand and held it in front of him for a moment before quickly and awkwardly leaning down to kiss it. Molly let out a light chuckle at how sweet the gesture was.

'Okay, shall we go and hail a cab?' Molly offered, shutting the door and pulling Sherlock towards the exit by his hand.

When they arrived at the theatre, the pair pushed their way through the crowds to take their seats front of house.

After 10 minutes, Sherlock noticed something moving in a giant egg that was placed on stage and he pointed it out to Molly.

'That's the creature she whispered.' Sherlock nodded. 'Have you ever read Frankenstein?' she asked.

'Fiction? No, too time consuming.' Molly just nodded in recognition.

Once the crowd had settled down, a naked form emerged from the egg, clad only in gunk and gunge. Sherlock was a supporter of the arts, but the fact that an actor would go on stage in front of hundreds of people wearing nothing shocked him slightly. Did all of Molly's books involve naked people?

Once the performance had come to an end and the two hailed a cab, Sherlock walked Molly to her door.

'Thank you for a wonderful night Sherlock, I really had a great time.' Molly said, the awkward tension had decreased significantly since the interval, in which the pair discussed with great enthusiasm what they had seen so far and what was still to come. When flicking through the program, Molly pointed out that the actor who was playing the creature looked a bit like Sherlock. The detective huffed and denied it, but he couldn't help thinking that the resemblance was uncanny.

'I had a wonderful evening too, thank you for accompanying me.' Sherlock agreed.

'Err, would you like to come in for some coffee?' Molly asked shyly.

'Isn't it a bit late for coffee, it's 10:30.' Sherlock said wearing a look of cluelessness. Molly smiled at his innocence and decided not to confuse him.

'Of coarse, silly me. Well thanks again and goodnight Sherlock.' She said, wondering if she was going to get a kiss goodnight.

'You're welcome, goodnight Molly.' He replied, turning to walk back up the stairs. Molly sighed and headed in doors. She wasn't sure what would happen but she should have known that Sherlock probably wouldn't have kissed her.

Sherlock entered 221B to find John typing up Sherlock's return for his blog. He looked up at his friend, trying to see how he felt about the date but thought it would be easier just to ask.

'How was it?' John asked before he even said 'hello'.

'It went well, we had a great time at the theatre, even if there was nakedness involved in the production. I'm sensing a pattern in Molly's reading habits.' He replied.

'That's nice, did you kiss her?' John inquired, curiosity pushed him to do so.

'Should I have? It's only the first date.' Sherlock said looking confused, as his flatmate literally face palmed.

'Sherlock Holmes, this is 2012, you can kiss on the first date! That's what people do! Walk her home and then kiss her goodnight!' John exclaimed. 'Don't worry, I don't think Molly is the type to judge...' John didn't get time to finish his sentence, as his flat mate had already fled out the door and down the stairs and started knocking on Molly's door.

Molly opened her door, now wearing her pyjamas to Sherlock.

'I forgot something.' He said quickly.

'You haven't been in Sherlock, you can't have left any...' she was cut off with a pair of lips being crushed against hers. Sherlock could taste her toothpaste on her lips. He felt the urge to delve his tongue into her mouth and taste it more, he almost did, before his brain shouted

First date! It's only the first date!

The detective pulled away reluctantly, to see a startled Molly looking back at him, speechless.

'Goodnight Molly Hooper.' He leaned over and pecked her on the cheek quickly, before heading back upstairs, leaving a startled Molly still standing in her doorway, in her pyjamas.

Oh my god. She thought. I'm in love with Sherlock Holmes.

THE END-


End file.
